


if this is love (please don't break me)

by dov



Category: El Internado | The Boarding School (TV)
Genre: Beards (Relationships), F/F, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships, Questioning, Sort Of, anyway, compulsory heterosexuality, julia was canonically abused but for some reason the show doesn't seem to know that lmao, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dov/pseuds/dov
Summary: She kisses Iván for the first time not because she really wants to, but because she doesn’t know anything else.





	if this is love (please don't break me)

She kisses Iván for the first time not because she wants to, but because she doesn’t know anything else. His body is pressed up against hers in the bathroom stall, and it’s not as if she hasn’t seen the way Iván’s gaze lingers on Marcos a little longer than necessary, but she doesn’t even think before wrapping her arms around his neck and capturing his lips with her own. It doesn’t feel right—it never feels right—but it’s familiar territory.

Too familiar.

She tries not to think about her bedroom in her mother’s house, tries not to think about her stepdad’s calloused hands, instead focusing on Iván’s warmth. He smells like cigarettes and chewing gum and she feels the tension lift from her shoulders a little. Iván matches the frantic pace she sets (desperate to lose himself in the rhythm of it or desperate for it to be over already, she’s never really sure) and their kisses descend into a whirlwind of teeth and tongue until her blue sweater rides up and she feels the shock of the cold tile wall on her back. She freezes, and it’s only for a fraction of a second but it’s long enough that Iván feels her go rigid and immediately pulls away. They’re both still for a while, quiet breathing filling the heavy silence, neither one daring to drop the other’s gaze for fear of... To be honest, she doesn’t know what they’re both afraid of.

But Iván is the one to break first. He rips his gaze away from hers and mutters  _joderjoderjoderjoder_  before turning and slamming his fist against the wall. Julia says nothing, simply steps around him out of the cubicle and slips out into the hallway, letting the heavy oak door slam shut behind her.

+

She doesn’t know where she stands with Iván, and she likes it. They hate each other until they don’t, trading barbs and insults and  _imbécil_  and  _gilipollas_  until they’re alone in the dark and neither of them can sleep and Iván takes her hand in his and squeezes gently. A reminder, a reassurance of presence more than anything, but it’s always exactly what she needs. She knows she doesn’t love him, and she knows he doesn’t love her, not really, but they have a connection that neither of them can quite put their finger on. 

She’s never been very good at  _loving_  anyway, and when she kisses Iván she still feels a nagging sense of  _something_  settle at the pit of her stomach, but he is solid and steady and offering what she is sorely in need of. She’ll take it.

+

Everyone thinks they’re dating. Julia isn't so sure. They kiss in the corridors and trade notes in classes and sit together whispering in the library, but Iván’s hands never fall below her waist. They make out in the canteen every morning at breakfast, but only to see how long it takes Elsa to break them apart. 

The longest she counted was two minutes and twenty-five seconds.

+

They never really talk about the elephant in the room, except for once. One morning, she catches the way Iván’s gaze lingers on Marcos as he leaves for the shower, and she raises an eyebrow at him. Iván scowls back.

Later on, she’s partnered with Vicky for fencing and it only takes three turns before Julia is flat on her back and Vicky is standing over her. The coach calls the bout and Vicky helps her up, smiling. When Julia takes off her fencing mask, Iván tosses her the same smirk that she gave him earlier. She thinks about Vicky, and shakes her head.

+ 

She walks in on Marcos and Iván together one night. Roque is already asleep, dead to the world and oblivious to the hushed sounds of conversation coming from under Iván’s duvet. She can see the top of Marcos’s dirty blond hair peaking out from beneath the red comforter and knows that Iván is curled up behind him because even though he always complains about his arm falling asleep he still refuses to be the little spoon, and--

It should hurt. She knows that it should.

But it doesn’t.

She kisses her teeth and mutters a quiet _¡Vaya!_ with just enough inflection so that Iván will know that it’s her, know that she gets it, know that he doesn’t owe her anything, and she slips back to her own room. 

Her bed is cold when she slides into it. She doesn’t realise that she’s violently shivering until she hears the faint creak of floorboards and suddenly there’s something soft and warm being laid over her. 

When she wakes up, Carol and Vicky have already left. The knitted blanket that Vicky usually sleeps with is now on the floor beside Julia’s bed, having fallen off in the night. Julia picks it up and places it back with Vicky’s things, trying not to think about the significance of everything.

+

Iván doesn’t kiss her anymore. She misses it, but at the same time, she doesn’t miss it.

+

It’s the middle of spring. Iván and Vicky are playing soccer against Carol and Marcos on the lawn with Roque acting as half-referee, half-goalpost. Julia is content to lie in the sun and watch them. It isn’t long before Iván and Marcos are arguing over the score, playfully shoving each other backwards until Marcos trips over his shoelaces and falls onto the grass, but not before hooking his ankles around one of Iván’s legs and Iván comes crashing down on top of him. Wicked grin on his face, Iván pins Marcos’s arms above his head and leans in to kiss him.

Distracted by their performance, Julia hadn’t noticed Vicky making her way over until she’s sitting down beside her. The familiar scent of Vicky’s shampoo fills the air, and suddenly Julia can’t remember when exactly she started noticing that. 

“They’re idiots,” Julia says in lieu of a greeting, motioning in the general direction of the two boys making out on the lawn. Carol and Roque are trying and failing to break them apart, laughing like they haven’t done in ages. 

Vicky just smirks. “All teenage boys are idiots. Iván and Marcos are on a whole other level.”

A beat. Vicky shifts so that their bodies are almost touching.

And then, “Julia, I like you.”

Julia tenses, waiting for the familiar hollow feeling at the bottom of her stomach, waiting for her stepdad’s face to flash behind her eyelids, waiting for the vague sense of unease to settle on her shoulders. 

When it doesn’t come, she allows herself to meet Vicky’s gaze. 

“I’ve had a crush on you for ages,” Vicky continues, “but I thought you and Iván were together and--  _Joder_ , I don’t even know if you like girls, and I’m really sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, and I don’t know what I’m saying anymore, and--”

Julia finally finds her voice. “I... I’ve never wanted to kiss a girl before." She breaks off, thinking. Has she ever actually wanted to kiss _anyone_ before? "Well, I’ve never thought about it. I’m not really sure.”

Vicky nods once in understanding. “I used to think I had a crush on Iván. It took me ages to figure it all out. No offense, by the way.” 

Julia feels a small smile play across her face. “None taken.”

Another pause, but this time Vicky lies back against the wall and returns her attention to the soccer game, content to give Julia space to think. Roque has replaced her on Iván’s team, and every so often, Vicky comments on whatever idiotic stunt Iván has just pulled, laughing when Roque falls, yelling her support when Carol gets the ball. Julia just listens, watching the slight wind catch the ends of Vicky’s dark ponytail, her tanned skin glowing in the sunlight.

Julia isn't sure about anything anymore, but she remembers the soft weight of Vicky's blanket that night. She tentatively reaches out and takes one of Vicky’s hands in hers, butterflies in her stomach. Thankfully, Vicky doesn’t remark on it, just keeps criticising Iván’s footwork from the sidelines. After a while, Julia feels Vicky’s grip tighten, squeezing her hand gently. A reassurance of presence, more than anything. A  _here I am_  and  _here we are_. A ‘ _maybe?’._

Julia smiles without meaning to, and squeezes back.  _Maybe_.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a highly self-indulgent mess of julia dealing with compulsory heterosexuality and recovering from trauma, on the precipice of learning how to love in a healthy way. i love iván but my personal headcanon for julia & iván's relationship is that theyre both Gay And In Denial - messy and complicated and not at all a healthy relationship, but they care a lot about each other. just not romantically.


End file.
